‘I’m still not convinced that anyone’s rumbled her, ma’am. When Jimmy attempted to make a date with her, Rae hinted that she was a lesbian. Maybe that’s all it is. Jimmy isn’t the world’s most perceptive man. He probably took it literally and has been gossiping to Jen Allbright. This is a small town. It runs on gossip and scandal. When I split with Sammie, everyone knew within a couple of days. Suddenly women I hardly knew were making a beeline for me. And it wasn’t just evenings in the pubs, either. I mean, even when I was doing the shopping in the supermarket some of them would stop to chat.’
Sophie laughed. ‘Told you last year what women like in a man. You must have been paying attention. So you think we should leave it for now?’
‘Well, I could have a quiet word with Jimmy, if you think it’d be a good idea.’
‘Okay. I’ll do the same with Jen Allbright. But if they do suspect she’s a TS, then we’ll have to change our approach. They must treat her like anyone else. No compromises, okay? We’ll do it just after briefing. I’ll take Rae when I go across to Bath this morning. She seems to have an uncanny ability to unearth relevant details even if they’re hidden in a mass of information. That’s just what I need if we’re going through hotel booking records. You and Jimmy can call in on the two Shapiro families in Southampton. See what you make of them. If Rae’s right, they’re hiding something. And as for the other thing Rae picked up, I don’t know what to make of it. It might be a complete misunderstanding on the part of the neighbour, but we have to double-check. Rosemary couldn’t confirm it when I spoke to her yesterday evening, but couldn’t discount it either. Shall we put Jen onto it? Could she cope with searching through registry records?’
‘Probably. But it’s a bit strange. I mean, why haven’t we picked it up from anyone else? Surely she’d have talked about it to someone — at work or to Rosemary Corrigan? Or even to her ex, Hugh Shakespeare?’
‘Rosemary did see Sarah fiddling with what looked like a wedding ring on one occasion. That’s what she told me, although apparently Sarah wouldn’t talk about it,’ Sophie replied.
‘Hugh seemed genuinely shocked to hear about our discovery of the second body,’ Marsh added. ‘He knew another body had been found, but he seemed really taken aback when I told him who we thought it was. That was while you were talking to Peter. I asked him to keep it to himself. He didn’t seem to be listening to me, so I had to repeat what I’d said.’
* * *
Sophie and Rae walked to the first hotel on their list. A young Asian woman was waiting outside. She stepped forward as they approached, looking hesitantly at Sophie.
‘Rae, this is Lydia, your predecessor. I managed to winkle her out of her normal duties to give us some local knowledge. I’m guessing that analysing account sheets all day long can get a bit much, can’t it, Lydia? I thought you’d be glad of a day out.’
Rae extended her hand, but Lydia gave her a quick hug.
‘I don’t know how you did it, ma’am,’ Lydia said. ‘He’s never let anyone else have time away before. “Positive liaison with our Dorset colleagues,” was how he put it.’
‘Unfair use of influence, Lydia. Benny Goodall says my fame has spread far and wide. Too far and too wide, as far as I’m concerned. I had a request from the Home Office last week to head up some official inquiry or other.’
‘You turned it down of course?’ Lydia said.
‘Hah. You’re wrong. I haven’t answered yet,’ Sophie laughed.
They entered the ornate lobby of the hotel and asked to see the manager.
‘Thank God for computers,’ Sophie murmured. ‘This would take forever without them.’
Rae and Lydia spent a tedious morning going through hotel records. Sophie talked to the various managers. They were in the fourth hotel on their list when they found it. Rae sat up with a jerk and choked on her coffee, trying to speak and swallow at the same time.
‘Derek Paul,’ she squeaked. ‘Here. Booked in for the same weekend as the jazz festival. A single room for two nights, the Friday and Saturday. His name, but reversed.’
Sophie thought for a while. ‘Brenda Plant identified Shapiro as the one who paired up with her at the bar and took her back to his room. He’d booked into the hotel under the name Brian Nelson, which we know was false. So this appears to confirm that our two were the ones involved in the rape. But we’re still missing the third name. Sorry, but we need to keep looking, for the name Renton.’
The search went on. Late in the morning, in a quiet hotel away from the city centre, they found the next name.
‘It can’t be!’ gasped Sophie. But there it was, stated clearly in the computer records for the same weekend. Ed Wilton.
She immediately phoned through to Matt Silver, her boss at Dorset police headquarters.
‘Do we keep looking, ma’am?’ Rae asked.
‘Yes. I’m not making any assumptions here. We finish with this hotel’s records and continue with the others on the list. We need to see if Renton was here as well.’
Nothing else was found.
Lydia spoke. ‘We’ve only looked at the hotels, ma’am. A lot of people coming for a music festival stay in a bed and breakfast or a guest house. And there are dozens and dozens of them. It would take too long to visit them all. Why don’t you leave it with me? I’ll do some phoning around this afternoon and the next day or two. I’ll clear it with my boss, or maybe you could have a word. If I have a list of names of everyone linked to the case, there’s a good chance I’ll spot something. If I do I can easily pay a visit to check.’
‘That would be great.’ Sophie looked into Lydia’s eyes. ‘I’m very grateful for your help, Lydia. But don’t prejudice your own future here in Bath by helping me more than your current boss has agreed to. I think I can guess how you are feeling at the moment. I imagine you’re missing the intensity of these investigations. But the move here was good for you. I had a word with your boss yesterday, and he holds you in high regard. Don’t let the low-level admin work get you down. We all have to go through it. It will come good, believe me.’ She paused. ‘I’m a bit shell-shocked by this discovery of Ed Wilton’s name. I really thought he wasn’t involved.’
‘He might not be, ma’am,’ said Rae. ‘It was a jazz festival, and he’s a musician. It could just be a coincidence.’
* * *
‘What is this all about? Why did someone come to collect Rosemary? Why am I being kept in the dark?’
Sophie stood in the hallway of the police safe house in Wareham and looked at Ed Wilton. A local plain-clothes officer stood to one side.
‘Can we sit down, please?’ Sophie said. She didn’t wait for a reply, walking into the lounge with Rae behind her. Ed came after them and sat down facing Sophie. Rae remained standing by the door, beside the local detective.
‘Two years ago in September. You were in Bath for a weekend. Can you tell me why?’
He frowned and scratched his forehead. ‘There was a jazz festival. I’d composed a short suite of songs to be performed by a really talented singer from Bristol. I certainly wasn’t going to miss the première.’
Sophie nodded her head slightly. ‘Can someone verify that, Mr Wilton?’
‘Of course. The musicians could, the festival organisers, and Ella was there with me. With us, I should say. It was the last music weekend that Lizzie could get to before the cancer began to cripple her. Maybe even someone from the hotel we stayed in will remember us. I’ve still got the festival programme if you want to see it, though it’s at my house in London.’
‘Would the programme still be available online, Mr Wilton?’ asked Rae.
‘I suppose it could be.’ He opened up his laptop and typed into a search engine.
‘There we are,’ he said.
The two detectives read the details, which corroborated his story. He’d written a five-song cycle for voice and piano, performed in public for the first time at the event in Bath.
‘Could you give me Ella’s mobile number
please? I’d just like to check with her.’
Ed took his phone out, and held it across for Sophie to see. She took a notebook out of her bag and compared numbers.
‘What? You already had it?’ He smiled grimly. ‘You’re too devious for words.’
Sophie left the room.
‘She verified it, of course?’ said Wilton when she returned.
‘Yes, but I don’t think you fully understand, Mr Wilton. She’s just verified the fact that you were in Bath the very weekend a woman was sexually assaulted in the same way as Sarah Sheldon. Although, luckily, the woman from Bath survived. The assault took place late on the Friday night, roughly the same time as last weekend’s attack. Ella has just told me that she didn’t arrive until the Saturday morning because the premiere of your music was on the Saturday evening.’
‘But Lizzie and I were at a gig on the Friday. We returned to our hotel room. She was tired and ill, so we went to bed. I sat reading for a while.’
‘Unfortunately we can’t verify that, given the tragic death of your wife.’ She sat looking at Ed Wilton. ‘I had to move Rosemary out. She’s gone to another location.’
Wilton looked distraught. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. You could see last night what we feel for each other. She’s in no danger. I’d never hurt her. I’ve never hurt anybody.’
‘Whatever you say is irrelevant to me, Mr Wilton. The victim in Bath has recently identified Derek and Shapiro from photographs. She wasn’t able to identify a possible third man because she didn’t get a clear view of him. Think about it. How could I possibly leave her with you? How could I gamble with her life in that way? Step out of yourself for a moment. Could I, as the senior investigating officer in a murder investigation, even consider leaving her in the care of someone who admits to being in the vicinity of a previous set of assaults?’
‘Why don’t you leave her here, under protection? I can go back to my flat in Swanage.’
‘No. I’m moving her somewhere you don’t know about. And I still have to protect you too. When a situation reaches such a critical point, I don’t believe or disbelieve what any individual says, Mr Wilton. It goes beyond that. I do what logic dictates is the only possible course of action. So there’ll be no contact of any kind between the two of you until I say so. I want your promise that you won’t phone her, otherwise I’ll insist on taking your mobile phone from you. If you want to write her a letter, then that will be fine, but I will need to check it first. I’ll get it delivered by hand later today.’
Ed put his head in his hands.
‘This will only be for a few days, I hope. Once I’m satisfied that you weren’t involved with the Bath assault, I’ll relax the conditions and maybe you can see her again. I don’t enjoy this, whatever you may think, but I can’t gamble with either of your lives. We’ve had two murders and a very serious multiple rape, and I don’t think it’s over yet. Rosemary’s safety is paramount, but I also have to plan for your own protection since the possible perpetrators are still at large. We’ll visit Rosemary as soon as we’ve left you, so get that note written now, if you want me to take it with me.’
Wilton sighed. ‘I can see your problem. Just look after her, will you? Make sure she’s safe? That’s all I want.’
He took the offered pen and started writing on a sheet of paper that Rae handed him. When Wilton had finished, Sophie took the page and read it.
Darling Rosemary,
I am trying hard to convince myself that our friendly, beer-swallowing police person has your best interests at heart. My head tells me that this is the case, but my heart feels as if it’s tearing itself apart. I can only hope that she gets to the truth quickly, so that we can be together again. I will turn to the one thing that offers me escape at times of agony like this: my music. Something good will come out of the next few days of enforced separation. The first piece is already starting to form in my head.
Do what she says. She is right to be concerned.
Of course, my presence in Bath was for the music. That, and to give my Lizzie one final experience of my own music performed live. It was a composition dedicated to her. Everything else about that weekend is just cruel coincidence.
All my love,
Ed.
‘I’m truly sorry to be doing this, Mr Wilton. I’ll see what I can do to make things easier for you both. Meanwhile, don’t go out without your escort, and clear it with me first.’ She paused and added, ‘I may see you this evening.’
* * *
Barry Marsh and Jimmy Melsom were still in Southampton. They had spent much of the day speaking to various members of the two branches of the Shapiro family — and trying to decode their answers. The two brothers ran a restaurant each, and it quickly became apparent that there was little love lost between them. The younger brother seemed open and honest, but Marsh sensed that even he was choosing his words carefully. The older brother was surly and impatient, and he gave little away. While they talked, Marsh examined a rather faded family photo on a shelf in the older brother’s office. He suddenly realised that there was a third brother, who looked suspiciously like the man they were seeking.
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ he asked. All he got in reply was a shrug. The older brother said his sibling had returned to Italy some years before.
On leaving the office Marsh spoke to a younger family member, who was busy unloading stores from a delivery van. The young man told Marsh that Uncle Briano still visited them at Christmas. Then he spotted his father watching from the window and refused to say any more.
* * *
‘There was a distinct similarity to our man,’ Marsh reported to Sophie back in Swanage. ‘Neither of the brothers really wanted to talk about him. It was lucky I bumped into the son while we were coming out, otherwise we’d be nowhere. I’m convinced they’re hiding something. If it is him, he might well be back in Italy by now, and that’ll make things difficult for us.’
‘Let’s put someone onto it. If his proper name is Briano rather than Brian it might explain why we haven’t been able to find him. By the way, how did you get on with Jimmy this morning? Has he twigged anything about Rae?’
‘No, not as far as I can tell. He just thinks she’s a lesbian. I think he’s suffering from a bruised ego after she turned him down.’
‘Allbright has guessed. I’ve told her to treat Rae the same as any other woman officer. I took a low-key approach, and I think she’ll toe the line. I hope you’re right, and Jen really is as understanding as she appears. The trouble is, appearances can be deceptive in these situations. Apparently fair-minded people can turn bloody-minded and people you think are bigoted can be as wise as Solomon . . . I’m off to visit Rosemary with a note from our Mr Wilton. His story does seem to ring true, so it looks as though I’m in for a part as a go-between.’
‘Doesn’t sound much like fun,’ said Marsh.
‘Hmm. I’m going to invite them to my house for a meal, and try my hand at cooking. It’s something I rarely do. Martin and Jade are such good cooks. There won’t be any opportunities for hanky-panky between them, not with Jade on the case. She’s enough to intimidate anyone, believe me. But then you’ve met her, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, at your father’s funeral and, before that, at last December’s charity do. She sat opposite us at the meal. It was about then that Sammie and I realised that maybe we weren’t meant for each other.’
‘Probably not a coincidence, knowing my daughter the way I do, although I have to say that she is mellowing slightly as she gets older.’
‘Just slightly?’
‘Do you want to come along as well and see the sparks fly? That’s if you aren’t already booked this evening?’ There was a pause. ‘Bring Gwen as well. It’s a long time since I last saw her, and you weren’t a couple then. The more the merrier, though I’ll only be doing a fish pasta bake.’
‘Thanks, ma’am. I’m sure Gwen will enjoy watching.’
‘Could you collect Ed Wilton on your way? We can give t
he duty man the evening off.’
Chapter 17: Round Midnight
Friday evening
Barry Marsh hurried his two passengers across the pathway. They huddled together in the porch of the old cottage, trying to shelter from a sudden downpour. Jade Allen opened the front door and welcomed them into the warm interior. Jade seemed to have grown another inch or two since Marsh had last seen her. She was now an attractive young woman, taller and slimmer. She was dressed in deep red and black. She smiled at Marsh.
‘I remember you, Barry. So this must be Gwen, and you,’ she wagged her finger, ‘must be Ed Wilton, the composer. I’ve heard of you from your music. Come in out of the rain, and I’ll take your coats. Mum’s in the kitchen burning the dinner. Dad’s in the lounge chatting up a blonde.’ She ushered them into the hallway and hung their coats up. ‘I get so fed up with blondes, don’t you, Gwen? Acting as if they own the world, simpering over any man who happens to be around? Doesn’t it make you want to weep? Really!’
Gwen Davis laughed. ‘My feelings exactly. I think that we brunettes should unite, don’t you? Once women get full equality and the feminist movement isn’t needed any more, we should start a pro-brunette campaign.’
‘I’m glad you came,’ Jade added. ‘I was feeling outnumbered, being the only brunette. Not that I can’t hold my own against them, you understand. They’re a bit of a lightweight species really. But I’d have had to hold back out of common courtesy and that’s quite hard for me to do.’
‘Sorry, but who are we talking about here?’ asked Marsh. ‘Men or blondes?’
‘Blondes of course,’ Jade replied. ‘Men don’t even count. Though I suppose they must have their uses.’
‘Hmm. What does your father say to that?’
‘He’s a supporter of feminism, so we get along. Anyway, dear guests, follow me into the lounge. I will endeavour to make you comfortable while Mum continues to ruin the fish I carefully chose for this evening’s meal. Please ignore the smell of charred food that permeates the air. She does try, really.’
SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense Page 17